 |
 |  |
| |
| 5 |
| The times you live for me catch us by surprise completing a circuit of uncertainty stemmed in the pleasure of touching the other. The body isn't everything but it's a lot, enough to ignore or worship. Sometimes it's hard to talk because there isn't anything to say so we shut ourselves into a gaze wide open as the longing born in the frantic corridors of the self. Some would call it pathetic. Hedonist! sneered out of jealousy, never confronting the spinning worlds of a lover's breath as motion betrays meaning with a kiss. But as long as I live I have found you. |
|
| |